The Black Iris (part 11)
James slumped over in his chair. He could hear his father hard at work in the next room, operating on the mysterious girl. The sound of doors opening and drawers slamming echoed out into the study. Excitement and anxiety welled up in James chest.
“Will she like me?” he wondered. “Will she thank me and move on from Aleford? What if Father can’t resuscitate her? What if everything he feared was true… what if she did indeed set fire to the church?” This final question chilled him so, that he pulled his chair closer to the fireplace. As the flames crackled before him, he drifted into a light sleep.
Ballroom music played as a beautiful raven-haired girl danced before James. She was as graceful as a swan, dipping and twisting her arms to the melody. She moved so freely that her hair flowed like water. The music slowly faded out, but the girl danced on.
James sat upright in his chair, and rubbed his tired eyes. “Be still my heart.â? he thought as he stared at the gorgeous girl. “This is no dream.”